


The man in the mountains

by TrewRilia



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Fantasy, Hiking, Plot Twist, Scottish, banshee - Freeform, sensual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:07:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26561128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrewRilia/pseuds/TrewRilia
Summary: A man goes on one if his regular hiking trips and makes an encounter, that turns out very differently from what legends have taught him.
Relationships: strangers - Relationship
Kudos: 2





	1. The pond

The man in the mountain

There is a man, hiking high in the mountains. He doesn’t seem lost, only looking for a safe place for the night. After a while of wandering around, he finds a spot that he deems adequate: the outskirts of a small forest, offering a softer ground to set his tent and a stream, apparently coming from far uphill, fresh and clean, which flows to hide behind behind a perfectly unspectacular rock formation.

The man decides to install everything here – which takes only a little while. He then goes to the stream to fill his water skin and to freshen up a little. After his water skin is fulfilling its duty again, he leans over the water, looking at himself. His face is framed by long ginger hair and an almost equally long beard. Small blue eyes look at the reflection, calm and relaxed, finally free from fear. He is just about 165cm tall, wearing a kilt – a rather unusual view in this area. He washes his face, takes his shoes off and dips his feet into the water. He shivers, smiling briefly, and lets his gaze follow the stream’s flow. As he is curious by nature, he decides to find out what else may be hiding behind the rock formation.

He carefully walks along the stream, the curve it takes – only to find it flow in a serpentine and vanish behind another boulder. Shaking his head with a smile at Mother Nature’s wit, he keeps walking – to suddenly stop in surprise. 

A small oasis reveals itself to him, offering shelter behind a natural wall of stones and rocks, a wee pool, deep and wide enough for a grown man to stand and float in. The pool is obviously nourished by the stream, but not only. The bearded man dips a foot inside to find out that the water is pleasantly warm. Tired from the long hike, he doesn’t hesitate for even a second. He puts his shoes and socks next to a rock,, undresses, folding his clothes neatly over that same rock and then carefully climbs into the pond, so deep that his mouth is under water, only his nose and eyes surfacing. He closes them and gives in to the warm and covering blanket of the water and sighs. After a few moments, he starts rubbing his skin, getting the cold out, the sweat and dirt off. He then dives under water, his hair and beard floating in every direction. He surfaces again, he lifts his feet and soon floats on his back, enjoying the silence, except for the comforting whisper of the stream.

He rests like this for a while, moving occasionally to keep his chest and belly covered in warm water. Suddenly, there is something that irritates him. He stands in the water, listening to what might be interrupting this break of his. There was still only the sound of the stream. Now the irritation changes to discomfort. He looks around, uneasy. He had felt this before. He feels as if there was someone. As if he’s being watched. By that thought, he is suddenly very aware of his nudity, he looks over to his clothes, which seem to be miles away at this moment. He looks around closely. The only thing he wants to do now is get dressed and go back to his tent – which really only offers a limited kind of protection and safety.


	2. Shee

The impression of no longer being alone grows. And turns into certainty. Before he can get out of the pond, he sees it. A being stands there. No. He looks closer. Floats there, just next to his clothes. He swears – not out loud and his heart beats noticeably faster. He freezes in the pond – meaning that he doesn’t move anymore, since the water is warm after all. Then he recognizes what the appearance is and his heart drops into the pants that he isn’t wearing at the moment. Unluckily. The floating creature is female, wearing a white hooded cloak, has only one nostril, an overbite and long white hair. All in all, a rather ugly view. That frightens him to death – which is appropriate in an ironic way. The woman he sees being a banshee.

“So that is how it is going to end. After all. Finally.” Strangely enough, excitement mixes in with his fear. And after a moment that seems forever, both make place for an accepting, even welcoming calm. He looks down at himself. Naked and soon dead. He grins and thinks “Well, why not. We are naked when we come to this world too.” He looks back at her, wondering – curious even – how this will go exactly.

Then he gasps. He rubs his eyes and looks again. His jaw drops. Shee looks so different. Shee walked a bit closer while he had been thinking and stands between him and his clothes now. But he doesn’t care anymore. Shee’s still cloaked and hooded. But her face – along with her aura – had changed completely. Shee has a beautiful face, with a warm smile and a certain sparkle in her eyes. Shee is looking at him, apparently able to look through the slightly steaming water as if it didn’t exist. He blushes. And while he is fascinated, unable to take his gaze off of her, sudden realization hits him: He is standing in front of a beautiful woman – a mysterious being from stories even – completely naked and visibly pleased by the view shee offers.

Shee notices too, of course. Shee smiles at him, almost like a thanks.

Shee walks closer, so close that shee stands at the edge of the pond, looking down at him. Still smiling, shee takes her clothes off, shee just lets them slip down her body – it looks like a waterfall of silk over a voluptuous block of white marble – all in all a view that can only be described as smooth.


	3. Goosebumps

The man looks up in awe. He doesn’t worry about his visible desire for her anymore as shee seems to take it as an invitation – which he welcomes a lot. It has been way too long. What he doesn’t know (yet) is that it has been even longer for her.

He looks up at her, her skin shimmering orange-red in the setting sun, whose beams but kiss the hidden area of their pond. He looks at her feet, then lets his eyes wander up her legs – strong, smooth skin and feminine. He gulps as his gaze approaches her most private spot. Her lips look soft and are as blank and smooth as the rest of her skin – the only hair being that on her head. He licks over his lips and can feels how shee follow his glance. His eyes caress her belly, then the round and form mounds which show signs of arousal – he assumes (and hopes). Her white hair is flowing playfully around them, a wee breeze lifting it gently, framing her chest and face. Their smiles meet. Shee climbs into the pond. Being the gentleman he is, he immediatley offers her a hand for stability. Shee gladly takes his hand. But once shee is standing in front of him – slightly taller, her bosom only half under the surface – shee is not letting his hand go. Her fingers start stroking his.

He takes a step closer and rests his other hand on her other lower arm, watching her as if asking for permission. Shee’s still smiling. So he caresses her arm, slowly, from her wrist up to her shoulder. Her skin is as soft as he had imagined – and much warmer than the pale look reveals. His hand strokes over her neck and then cups her cheek, gently stroking it. Shee leans into his cress and her face gives him a first hint of how long it has been since a man touched her like this. He knows how shee feels, by Gaia he knows.

This ignites something within him. Without hesitation, he lays his hand in the back of her neck and gently pulls her into a kiss. Shee finally lets his hand go, just to move hers up his arm and on his back. He puts his now empty hand on her waist – so soft and warm. Her other arms wraps around his waist – they end up standing, surrounded by warm water, in a tight and very intimate embrace, sharing a hot, longing kiss. Shee ends the kiss. Both are blushed. Shee moves his other hand onto her hip as well, cups his face with hers and kisses him – a kiss that feels to him like an invitation, a permission and somehow even like a plea.

He looks at her and sees it in her eyes. Starved for touch, for intimacy, for a man. He sees the fear of disappointment and the lust, the fear of being hurt and the hunger, the distrust and the desire. He understands. So he leads her out of the water. Their bodies are covered in small drops, the wind that played with her hair earlier is now giving them goosebumps. He can see her buds hard, her breath a little heavier than before. He kneels down, pulling her with him and guiding her to lay down. The ground is still a bit warm from the sun. Shee lays down, looking at him. It seems as if shee knows what will follow and although she wants it, shee appears to brace herself for it too.


	4. Opening up

He moves down, kneeling over one of her legs. He looks at her naked body, waiting for him to snuggle it. He leans down and kisses her again. He gently slips between her lips with his tongue, searching for hers. She gasps – this seems to be new to her – but responds to his request and relaxes. He feels her wet and warm skin against his. He is so impatient to feel her, to be as close as possible to hear – and at the same time he wishes to stretch the moment for as long as he can.

He ends the kissing, smiles at her and begins to kiss her throat, her shoulders and her chest. Shee gasps again. When he rests his lips around one of her buds and his tongue flicks over it – wet and soft – she moans, a sound of delight and pleasant surprise. He switches sides, licks over her other bud and is rewarded with a second sweet sound. He does this for a while, delighted by her audible reaction and being aroused more and more.

He notices how shee opens up to him – literally. Her legs spread wider, the one between his pushing against his leg now. He smiles. He looks into her face. It is a picture of relaxation, calm and desire. He begins to kiss his way down, starting between her breasts. Shee giggles a bit – another sound he enjoys. He himself is pulsating and ready for her – for a while already – but he like taking his time and making it a good time forher. He spreads little kisses over her skin, around her belly button, on her sides, her belly, tickling her with his beard, to finally kiss around her lower lips, including her inner thighs in his teasing. Shee giggles and moans, gasps and stretches. Just before finally parting her lips with his tongue (he really, really wants to taste he lust), he looks up at her. Her fingers are stroking the earth under her, her chest is moving in heavy breathing, her face is blushed and deeply relaxed.

He rests his mouth at the lowest part of her lips. He takes her scent in, his nose almost pushing her folds apart. Then he presses his tongue between them and licks all the way up, over the source of her fluids, then her pearl, up till his tongue leaves this tasty trail.  
It takes him some time to process the sounds shee is making, the gustatory and olfactory input he receives. From the corners of his eyes he sees her fingers dig into the ground. Shee pants and almost whimpers – shee sounds thrilled and at the same time as if she can’t believe it. Then shee looks (down) at him and shee doesn’t need to say anything. He understands that shee wants more of this. Her eyes are almost begging him to carry on.

He smiles and nods, sends her a blown kiss and goes back to tasting her, to exploring her, to playing her like a sweet instrument. The melody that enters his ears makes him wish wish this could go on forever – only this moment, for the rest of time, simple pleasure and lust, no worries, no problems, no doubts ever again.


	5. Symphony

But he can feel his urge to have her growing – partially literally. He continues making her sing, licking her most sensitive spots, sucking on them and kissing them. Eventually, her breath changes to a staccato, mixed with high pitched moans.

He knows this too. He wants what comes next s o much. The staccato turns into a legato crescendo, a long moan that grows in volume and sound. Now he is being delighted, feeling her twitch at his tongue, seeing her body quiver, so much that he has to hold her thighs in order to continue over her fortissimo to the fine. And it is breathtaking. For both of them. She gasps for air because shee has been screaming from pleasure. He breathes quickly because she pressed herself against his mouth so much that he could barely breathe – and because his ardent longing for her is at a peak.

He moves up to her, kneeling between her legs now, and kisses her softly, letting her breathe. Now shee can see his burning desire in his clear blue eyes. Shee smiles. It’s a compliment and he likes it. Shee nods, kisses him eagerly and presses her wet lips against his tip. He moans into the kiss. He lets his tip slpi in, carefully, attentive to her – it may be too much just now. But shee kisses him even more, demanding, passionately, her hands stroking his back and head.

That is it, he can’t hold back anymore – he doesn’t want to anmyore. He thrusts into her as deep as he can, welcomed by hotness, wetness and tightness. After so long, the sensation is unbelievable – for the both of them. A firework explodes in their minds and bodies, like a symphony of of colours mixed with a collage of sensations, sprinkled with crisps of music.

They both visibly enjoy it, there is just no one around to see it – nor to hear. They are moaning, gasping, panting, mumbling, growling, whimpering, whining and sighing.  
He looks at her again, wanting to enjoy this with each of his senses. Shee looks back at him. Again, shee looks as if shee can’t believe this is actually happening – but shee loves it and shee doesn’t hide that at all.


	6. Climax

This makes the experience even more intense for him, so much that he actually stops thinking and getting close to his own orgasm. He thrusts deep and hard into her, eliciting delicious sounds out of her – something between a pant and a moan, wrapped around the letter “O”. 

Suddenly shee grabs his arms, closes her eyes and starts screaming again, tightening and clenching around his pulsating shaft. This, so unexpected and wonderful, pushes him over the edge. He presses her mouth on her shoulder, pushes in deep, one last time, and releases his fluids into her, mixing them with hers. Their bodies are united into a tremor, he’s sending more and more seed into her. Shee wraps her legs around him and pulls him down onto her body, letting him rest on her.

They stay like this for a long while. The twitching and eventual sounds vanish only slowly. Then, without a word, they get up and walk back into the pond. The silence is comfortable, intimate. They wash. Get dressed. And then walk back to his tent, holding hands. He starts a fire, cooks them tea and offers some bread to her. Shee smiles and takes it. They eat and drink in this calm, satisfied and familiar silence.


	7. Stories

When they are done, shee breaks the silence, her voice running through his body, leaving a trail of warmth and… memory.  
“You have questions.” shee states, calmly, neutrally.

He nods. Shee smiles and waits.

“Are you a banshee.”

“Yes.”

“Are there more like you?”

“Yes.”

“And the stories…?”

Shee smiles. “Stories change with time. They are fed by people’s fears and insecurity.”

“So… I am not going to die?”

Shee laughs – a sound as pleasant as her moan – “No.”

“Do you know how the stories turned into what they are today? Is there even something like the banshee’s scream?”

Shee is silent for a while. Thinking. “Yes, there is. But it is not what people think it is – it has nothing to do with someone dying.” Shee thinks again. “What did you see when you first spotted me?”

He looks into the flames, ashamed.

“Shee smiles. “It’s okay. You saw an ugly, potentially terrifying woman.”

He nods, not daring to look at her.

“That is where most – almost all – men run. You didn’t. That’s why you looked again and saw the real me.” She looks at him, lifting his chin gently with a finger. “I do know why you didn’t run.” She doesn’t sound sad, but not careless either. “The point being, humans give so much importance to a first impression that they obstruct themselves the possibility of seeing the reality, the truth. Sadly, this does not only apply to the physical appearance of another being. That first ugly appearance is part of a banshee. I cannot change that. Those who don’t run, can see me.” Shee smiles at him, thankfully. “Those who run… make me lonely.” She smiles, but it’s not a happy smile. “It means that I am far from other beings for years, decades and even longer. There is no option for intimacy, not even for company, no social interaction. And I don’t see being run away from as an interaction. So.” Shee sighs. “The scream of a banshee is really an expression of her abyss deep frustration. That scream, combined with her first, ugly appearance and human’s incapability of looking past that first impression, changed the stories into what they are nowadays.” Shee stares into the fire.

“I understand.” He says. Shee knows he does. Then he smirks. “I gladly look at you again – more than once.”

Shee grins wickedly. “It would be our pleasure...”


End file.
